Tragic Monsters
by NeoVenus22
Summary: PRDT. Trent cleans the Zords. Spoilers for "Copy That". [complete]


Disclaimer: PRDT, its characters and the like don't belong to me, though I watch it religiously and my friends find that sad. Boyz II Men doesn't belong to me, although the valedictorian of my class did quote them in her graduation speech--that annoyed the crap outta me. SB3 isn't real, that name came from this Max guy I know. Fic title from a song by Les Savy Fav.

Takes place immediately after "Copy That".

* * *

"This is better than playing Splatter Buster 3," said Ethan contentedly. He made a big show of stretching out on his lawn chair. "Wouldn't you say, Conner?"

"Well, Ethan, I've never played Splatter Buster 3, but I'm going to have to agree with you."

"You guys aren't helping," complained Trent from high up on his thirty-foot ladder, balanced against the leg of the massive Tyrannozord that Conner piloted.

"I wasn't aware we were supposed to be," said Conner, and there was an abrupt change in his tone, revealing a hint of darkness, the bitter resentment and the rage he was managing to suppress.

"You're not," Trent assured him hastily.

Kira came in and flounced into the empty chair Conner had saved on the other side of him. "Have I missed much?"

"You know, he moves pretty fast on the field, but this is the slowest thing I've ever witnessed," said Conner.

"Conner means no," said Ethan. "Snack?" He produced a bag of chips, which he passed across Conner to her.

"Why thank you," she said cheerfully, pulling out a handful of chips.

Conner squirmed, pushing Ethan's extended arm back to him. "Hey, watch it. I don't want crumbs on my shirt." He brushed at his torso frantically to rid himself of any chip morsels. "I like this shirt."

"Yeah, you only have the five," remarked Kira dryly.

"And Trent's using one as a Zord rag," said Ethan.

Conner started. "You're kidding, right?" he asked worriedly. "You're--hey, Trent, what are you using for a rag?"

Kira and Ethan cackled wildly as Trent, confused, unwadded the cloth in his hand and called down, "It looks like an old Boyz II Men t-shirt."

Conner relaxed visibly, settling back into his chair. Then his face contorted in puzzlement. "Boyz II Men?" He cocked an eyebrow and looked to Kira. "Yours?"

She shrugged. "Ew, no. Ethe?"

"So not mine!" Ethan said, looking offended.

The three of them shared a look. "Dr. O.?" they said simultaneously.

"I heard my name?" the Black Ranger said, coming into the holding bay. The three teens in the chairs twisted their torsos to look over their shoulders at him. "So, Dr. O., you were a teen in the early nineties..." said Ethan slowly, a grin on his face.

Dr. O., trapped in his helmet, didn't have the luxury of getting to look confused --at least that they could see-- but he sounded it as he answered, "Yeah."

"So what sorts of --you know-- early nineties things were you involved in?" said Ethan casually. "You know, like, movies you saw in the theater...TV shows you started watching...bands you enjoyed..." His voice cracked on the last count, and the three couldn't keep small smiles off their faces.

"What are you getting at?" Dr. O. said.

"'I'll Make Love To You'?" Ethan continued. "Perhaps 'On Bended Knee'?"

This time, his friends cast him odd looks. "Dude, you so just crossed a line," said Conner.

"Ethan, are you hitting on me?" asked Dr. O.

Kira burst into peals of laughter and Conner cracked a grin. Ethan looked horrified. "No!"

Through her giggles, Kira explained, "Trent's working with an old t-shirt that we thought might be yours."

"Boyz II Men, dude?" said Conner, smirking.

Dr. O. laughed nervously. "Hey, it was just the one concert. Kim talked me into it," he said.

"_Sure_ she did," said Conner.

"You sound just like Jason," said Dr. O.

"You bought a shirt, dude," Conner pointed out.

"It was a keepsake!" Dr. O. said, sounding slightly desperate.

The kids just laughed and resumed their watching of Trent as Dr. O. hustled it out of the room.

"So, any plans for this weekend?" said Ethan, digging into the chips once more.

"The way things are going, we'll be here all month, because Trent is taking his sweet ass time with the Zords," said Conner.

"You wanna be up here, Conner?" called Trent.

"No one asked you to talk, Trent," returned Conner cheerfully. He glanced to Kira at his right. "Any gigs coming up?"

"Just my standard fare at Hayley's," she answered. "Friday night. You'll be there, right?"

"'Course we will," spoke up Ethan for the both of them.

"Hey, how do you know I don't have a hot date?" said Conner. Ethan and Kira both cracked up at that statement. "Yeah," said Ethan, "right."

Conner hit Ethan's arm, but he was smiling as he did so. "Even if I did have a date, I'd drag her to your show," he told Kira.

"Thanks," she said. "More butts in the seats for me. Although I might not have a guitar by that point."

"How come?" asked Ethan.

"Have I mentioned lately that Randall is a psycho? You know how I have that arrangement with Mr. Smalls, the music teacher, to keep my guitar in his room between classes, right?" The boys nodded. "Well, apparently that ticks Randall off, and she's threatening to take it away 'indefinitely' if she catches me doing it again. I don't know why. It's not bothering anyone." She sighed. "Between Randall, Elsa, and the White Ranger, I'm just not getting cut any breaks."

"Hey, I'm not a threat anymore," said Trent.

"Oh, right." Kira winced. "Sorry."

"No harm done. I had it coming."

"Could you keep your guitar in Dr. O.'s room?" said Conner.

"No can do--Dr. Mercer's in there now, remember?"

"Oh yeah. Forgot about that."

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind," Trent said helpfully from above.

"Trent, he won't let you draw. He probably disapproves of music, too. Unless I could write a song about the endocrine system." She began to hum the tune to 'Freak You Out' to herself, and the only spoken words were places in the song where she was attempting to fit in 'pituitary' and 'thyroid'.

Ethan laughed. "Why are you even trying?"

She shrugged, grinning mischievously. "Worth a shot, right?"

"Hey, you know what, I bet Coach Phillips would probably let you store it in a locker," said Conner. "We have some big ones set aside for the team, but there's one or two empty ones. They've got locks and everything. I could take it in and lock it up for you every morning."

"That'd be great," said Ethan. "Randall couldn't go in the guys' locker room."

"And the coach wouldn't mind?" said Kira hesitantly.

Conner brushed that thought aside. "Of course he wouldn't. I'm his golden boy. I won him the championship last year. The man loves me. He keeps offering to wash my car."

"Thanks, Conner, that would be great," she said sincerely. "I appreciate it."

"Hey, no prob," said Conner.

Trent threw the soggy concert shirt to the ground with a splat, and climbed down the massive ladder, wearing a triumphant smile. "Finished with that part," he said, as the group of them looked up at the shiny-as-new right leg of the Tyrannozord.

"Not bad, dude," said Conner.

"Yeah, it only took you a couple of hours," said Ethan cheerfully.

"These things are huge," said Trent, the hint of a complaint in his voice, but taking his punishment because he knew he owed them.

"Now you only have to finish Tyranno," said Conner.

"And then do Ptera next," said Kira.

"No way, Kira, I called Tricera next!" said Ethan. "My Zord's more important than yours."

"You _wish_, Ethan!"

"Hey, Conner and I could form a Megazord all by ourselves when you were off doing the bidding of a skull," argued Ethan. "I call second."

"Guys, guys, calm down," said Conner placidly. "He still hasn't finished my Zord yet. And then after this, he has the Ankylozord to do. And the Parasaurzord."

"Don't forget, he finally gave us the Cephala and Dimetrozords back," said Ethan.

"And the Stegozord," contributed Kira.

"And you know, the Dragozord is looking pretty shabby, now that I think of it," said Conner thoughtfully.

Trent looked stricken. "I'm going to be here forever!" he said.

Conner laughed. "Then you'd better get to work."

But overhead, an alarm was going off. "Guys, we've got trouble downtown," Dr. O. announced over Conner's morpher.

The trio climbed dutifully off their lounge chairs without complaint. "Time to go to work guys," said Conner.

"Are you kidding me?" whined Trent. "I just finished the leg!"


End file.
